Mcleod Ganj.

After the wedding it was honestly a relief to be alone and on a train headed for the Indian Himalayas. Although that relief was short-lived as it turns out 36 hours on a train is a very very long time in a side berth when you are traveling alone and have to sleep with your baggage. A side berth, especially an upper side berth is a very very tight squeeze at my gargantuan height. Add luggage (a large backpack) it’s more than super cozy…

Anyhow I managed the 36 hours just fine and even made some friends on the train. Two married Indian classical musicians who go by Ravi and Huni adopted me around hour 30 and played cards with me. They were very proud of what they did and the fact that their marriage was a “love marriage” and that she was 29 when they got married, and that Huni had for all intents and purposes shoved off her arranged husband to be. Ravi proceeded to tell me she wanted to give me a present but needed nice paper. So I gave her my journal and then she disappeared into an empty berth. Huni and I spent the next 20 minutes or so playing go fish, which he had never played before and loved more than life itself immediately. (I think it helped he kept winning). After the 20 minutes Ravi returned with my journal and pen and handed to me…In it she had drawn an elaborate henna like drawing in it with a time and a date and inscribed it saying “to our American friend”. It was very sweet.

They left me about two hours (and 20 rounds of go fish later) all alone again on the train. Until lo and behold I found another backpacker (success) who managed to keep me entertained for the rest of the ride and the 2.5 hour car ride (we skipped the bus…good choice I would say we saw three of them in ditches due to the thick fog on our way up). I arrived in Dharamsala with a flourish and found a guesthouse after walking around for 20 minutes. Now this is strange for a few reasons: A) it was freezing cold. B) Not one person harassed me, unlike the typical town and C) The dogs here look like normal animals…Not mange ridden beasts. After we checked into the Om hotel which supposedly had SUPREME VALLEY VIEWS (it was pitch black, we took their word for it), we made our way to McLo’s…

Mclo’s is a very typical backpacker joint. Overpriced and mediocre food and beer. A regrettably disappointing order of Momo’s and a Kingfisher beer later my short term travel compatriot made his way home…I stayed alone in the gauntlet. Within five minutes I met a Tibetan named Pema (who obviously was trying to get my attention for less than favorable reasons) but after 10 minutes of talking…Clearing up that I was unavailable for dating, he turned out to be a very great coversationalist. He was a political prisoner for 1.5 years in solitary confinement and when he was released his father sent him from Lhasa to Dharamsala to learn Tibetan Buddhism and find some sort of peace. (His stories about his time in the prison are heart-breaking...)

While we were talking a nice American girl interjected as she had heard me talking about Colorado. Christine (see blog below) her named was and she and her friend Logan had lived here for three months after a failed backpacking attempt in "real India" (everything outside of the Tibetan safe-haven of Dharamsala). They invited me to their pizza party the next night and bid me farewell. Another beer or two later (which Pema REFUSED to let me pay for…”Dad is fancy businessman in Lhasa he pays for everything”) and I was off to my guesthouse. Welcome to “Not Real India”


Also, you should check out my friends’ blog about here. Its far more entertaining than my own.